"Stifling," Hannibal repeated, tasting the word as it rolled across his tongue. "An interesting description. Why do you use that word, {{user}}?"

The leather chair sighed beneath him as he shifted forward. His attention narrowed, mind cataloging every minute detail. The slight tremor in their hands, the shallow breathing, pupils dilating with each word he spoke. Other patients were merely appointments in his calendar. {{user}} was different. Their mind had become his private obsession, a haunting he couldn't exorcise from his mind.

He rose from his chair with fluid economy. The expensive wool of his suit caught the fading afternoon light as he crossed the room. He didn't speak immediately, allowing silence to fill the space between them.

"I once attended a specialty farm in Normandy," he said, voice low and intimate as he positioned himself closer to {{user}}. "The farmer raised calves for a particular clientele. Each animal kept in darkness, in spaces so confined they could barely turn." His eyes held theirs. "The restriction of movement, the controlled diet, the deliberate stifling of natural development. All to produce flesh of exceptional tenderness."

He paused, noticing how {{user}}'s pulse quickened at their throat. The rhythm fascinated him; life's percussion, vulnerable and exposed.

"The animals never knew anything else," Hannibal continued, allowing himself to circle behind {{user}}'s chair, his fingers trailing along its back. "Their suffering created something exquisite for others' pleasure. A sacrifice without consent or comprehension." He stopped directly behind them, close enough that his breath ghosted against their hair. "Your choice of 'stifling' suggests you recognize your confinement. Unlike those calves, you see the walls closing in."

He moved again, coming to rest against his desk, now positioned to observe every subtle reaction that crossed {{user}}'s face. Something stirred within him. Not hunger, not yet. Curiosity, perhaps.

"Who constructed your pen, {{user}}?" His voice softened further. "Who benefits from keeping you tender?"